


Black and Blue

by sunriseshades



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Minerva McGonagall, Blood and Injury, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gay Sirius Black, Gen, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Marauders, Parental Abuse, Porn, Protective Minerva McGonagall, Running Away, Teenage Sirius, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Violence, depicitons of gay sex, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27875650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunriseshades/pseuds/sunriseshades
Summary: When retelling the story of the night that his parents disowned him, Sirius tended to add what he called a "theatrical flair” (and what McGonagall labelled as “an utter perversion of the truth”).In which Sirius is forced to fight for his life, and instead of going to the Potter's, is found by a panic stricken McGonagall.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Orion Black/Walburga Black, Sirius Black & Minerva McGonagall, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 151





	Black and Blue

When retelling the story of the night that his parents disowned him, Sirius tended to add what he called a "theatrical flair” (and what McGonagall labelled as “an utter perversion of the truth”). In Sirius’s version of events, an epic fight ensued in which he landed a winning punch to his father’s face and smashed his mother’s family heirlooms, before trotting out of the house and going on his own merry way on a little adventure - humming a carefree tune as he went. 

However as usual, McGonagall was right in believing that this is not actually what transpired on that fateful summer night in ‘77. 

Sirius had been in the dining room, his ear pressed against a portable stereo that Lily had bought a couple of months back. She’d said it was to improve his apparently “abysmal” music taste as well as introduce him to muggle technology, yet throughout the endless weeks of the summer holiday it had become so much more; he listened to it constantly, memorised all the words to Led Zepplin and The Rolling Stones, then at night would listen to mindless talk shows just to feel a little less lonely in the house that was far too big for just four people. 

Nevertheless, peace was impossible to maintain in the Noble House of Black, and in that instance it was shattered by the piercing shriek of his mother, followed instantly by heavy footsteps. 

“Here we fucking go” Sirius muttered under his breath, switching the radio off and tucking it behind him. 

The door slammed open and revealed both of his parents, each positively vibrating with such fury that a tinge of fear crept up his spine. 

“HOW COULD YOU?!” his mother screeched in a voice sour enough to make paint curl. For such a short woman, Sirius always thought it curious that her wrath was enough to fill stadiums, and in that moment it radiated from her body with a crushing force, until the very furniture seemed to be holding its breath in trepidation. 

“You’ve gone too far this time, mate” a voice in his head warned. At first he assumed it to be his subconscious, though it sounded suspiciously like James. 

“Whatever it is, it’s probably Reg’s fault,” he replied instantly, knowing that his darling younger brother wouldn’t so much as choose his own breakfast without their mother’s approval. 

“YOU DISGUSTING, WRETCHED BEAST” Walburga screamed, “I CAN HARDLY STAND TO LOOK AT YOU,” her pale face contorted to the very epitome of revulsion, as though her son was indeed the foulest creature she had ever laid eyes on. She raised a plump arm and sent a curse flying so close to Sirius’s head that it left a scorch mark on the wall from where he ducked. 

“Hey look I’m sorry. I haven’t even done - “ 

The words lodged in his throat once his eyes caught sight of the glossy, animated magazine that was scrunched in his mother’s iron fist. She promptly slammed the paper onto the table, which displayed the looping front cover of a man with his eyes closed in ecstasy while receiving a blowjob by another man. 

A few seconds of silence followed in which the entire universe seemed to silence itself. Sirius’s mind became utterly void, unable to comprehend that of all the horrific possibilities, his conservative, prudish parents had found his well-hidden porn stash. Then his subconscious said in a light, almost cheery manner; 

“Oh, you are absolutely fucked mate” 

“Do you know what they did to boys like you in my day, boy?” his father demanded in a tremulous voice. 

Before Sirius could respond, he jumped on the table to avoid one of his mother’s hexes, hardly able to feel his legs. Then the room became a blur of blue and purple sparks shooting from his parent’s wands, which made the very very foundation of the house tilt on it’s magical axis. 

“Look, I think we’ve all learned a valuable lesson,” he began, leaping onto the sofa and dodging another hex, a bubble of calm hysteria had ballooned inside him - there was no way out of this one, so he may as well enjoy the ride “to respect people’s privacy” he finished. 

“To think my own flesh and blood is a queer” Walburga spat venemously. 

“Oh come on, don’t be like that” Sirius taunted, “I’ve finally found something I’m good at, even got myself a boyfriend” a hex as powerful as a punch rammed into his eye, but he recovered almost instantly “and I should mention - he’s a werewolf” 

All it took was one strategic curse to land on his shoulder, and Sirius slammed into the wall, the back of his head colliding so hard that a piercing ringing sound rang through his ears. 

From this point the memories blurred in his mind, and all he could recall was the sight of his parents looming over him, blocking out the light, as he lay paralysed on the floor. 

His mother’s booted foot landed a solid kick against his ribs, and he retched against the impact. 

“Difindo” his father hissed, and Sirius felt a hundred knives tear through his clothes and slash through his flesh. He writhed in agony on the floor and bit down hard on his tongue - refusing to give his parents the satisfaction of hearing him scream. 

“Is that all you’ve got?” he sneered behind gritted teeth. As terrifying as it was, there was also something oddly cathartic about the torment, about having his darkest secret pulled from under him and painted on the walls for everyone to see. For years his parents had kept a strenuous grip on the belief that he could still be groomed into becoming the distinguished pureblood gentleman that they desired, and all it had taken was a cheap porno acquired from Stanley Shunpike to finally annihilate this fate. 

His father flicked his wand and produced a coarse, thick rope that instantly snaked around Sirius’s neck and tightened, until all the air was forced from his body. 

“You’ll never see the light of day again” Orion seethed, white moustache trembling at his words. 

Sirius struggled desperately against the rope; his mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. He kicked furiously against the floor, and his hands went from clawing at the rope to scratching at the floorboards until he felt his nails snap off and splinter, until black spots swam into his vision. Sirius had never given much thought into how he had died, but if you’d asked him he would probably assume it would be on some grand adventure gone wrong - one day him and the boys were old and grey, they’d take it a step too far and kick the bucket with a smile on their face, quick and painless. What he didn’t imagine, however, was dying on the floor of his childhood home before he’d ever gotten the chance to live. 

“Fuck that” the voice in his mind scoffed, he was Sirius Black, a marauder, troublemaker extraudinaire with decades of chaos and adventure and love all mapped out ahead of him. He couldn’t die like this. He forced himself to move, and brought his arms behind him to try and grab hold of something, then all at once Sirius’s hand clasped around a slim wooden object wedged beneath the sofa. A wand. 

He didn’t even think, in one haphazard movement he swung his arm around and wordlessly stupified his father, which caused the rope around his own neck to loosen and tumble to the ground. 

“You’d strike your own father!” his mother cried, mortified. 

Sirius could barely hear her, he was too busy taking deep rasping breaths, drinking in precious oxygen as though it were liquid gold.

“You’ll be expelled for this, you know that?” his mother rambled, a twisted smile crossing her features, “underage magic is a crime, you incompetent little -” she was cut off by a half hearted hex, the equivalent of slapping her across the face. 

“Do you ever just shut the fuck up?” Sirius rasped, he didn’t recognise the hollow, hoarse voice at left his mouth. He wanted this over with - he needed to get out. He unceremoniously shoved his mother out of his way, and suppressed the twinge of violence that desperately wanted to bludgeon her until she was a bloody pulp, before scampering into the hallway. 

He froze when he spotted Regulus at the top of the stairway, his eyes wide with fright. 

“Cheers for all the help back there mate, what would I do without you?” he spat, feeling almost feral in his pain. He heard his mother recover herself and make her way out the room, therefore blindly grabbed his leather jacket that had been crumpled on the floor and practically threw himself out the door. 

“Never come back here!” Walburga screamed into the silent night air, Sirius didn’t even look back, but hurried down the pavement, “you’re dead to me!” 

The words knocked the air right out of his lungs. She took advantage of his momentary paralysis, as Sirius felt scalding flames latch onto the ends of his hair and instantly blaze it’s way to his scalp. The guttural scent of burning hair filled his nostrils and his lungs coughed in protest. 

When recounting this specific part of the story, Sirius proudly claimed to have told his darling mother to go fuck herself. Instead, he glanced back at the figure of the woman who had birthed him, saw the murderous rage in her eyes - the genuine soul burning hatred, and Sirius felt scared. 

So he ran. 

He came to realise that the body was capable of quite extraordinary things when fleeing death; the insatiable hunger to survive surged through his veins and numbed his senses to the plethora of injuries littering his body. He sprinted faster than he ever had before, houses passed in a blur, he tore through a collection of bins and sent them flying into the road, under the yellow lights of a tunnel where a man lay in a drunken stupor on the ground, then instinctively climbed over the tall pikes of a metal fence.  
After many miles, the adrenaline inevitably began to evaporate until Sirius’s pace went from a sprint, to a jog, to his knees sinking into the dewy grass while his lungs burned in protest. 

“Keep going! The’re going to find you, they’re going to kill you” the voice in his mind cried, except this one didn’t sound like James, it sounded like a kid, and Sirius was reminded of the first time he’d hidden under the bed to escape his mother’s wrath - Regulus had only been a baby then. 

Sirius roughly spat out the phlegm and bile that had been building in his mouth, and saw a vibrant red liquid land on the grass beside him, which explained the metallic taste of blood. He scanned the space around him, passed all the empty benches and abandoned playground, his grating breath the only sound that filled the silent hush of the night air. 

What the fuck was he supposed to do now? His entire world had been tilted off of it’s axis and he’s been shoved off course and was currently plummeting down endless miles of space at a hundred miles an hour.

Sirius dug into the pocket of his inner hoodie and pulled out a crushed cig and lighter, which took six attempts to light since his hands were shaking so much. 

His mind suddenly flashed to James, and he wondered what he wondered what he was doing at that very second - probably passed out asleep in the comfortable suburbs of his treasured childhood home, or having a nightcap with his dad. Remus would probably still be awake, and as Sirius glanced at the moon he imagined him leaning out of his bedroom window smoking a spliff. Lily would be sleeping, he imagined her flaming red hair spread across the pillow, an open book in her hand and snoring like a beast. 

Above all, none of his friends were there with him as he bled and ached in a desolate park in the middle of the night. The feeling was bittersweet, he couldn’t stand the thought of any of them seeing him like this - limping pathetically and with his left high swelling by the second, while on the other hand he was consumed with a sudden overwhelming loneliness that threatened to swallow him whole. 

He took a drag of the cigarette and closed his eyes, ignoring the way his ribs screamed in protest as he inhaled, and when he opened his eyes seconds later, his heart almost gave out at the sight of someone standing by a street light. 

He guessed by the silhouette of the coat that it was a tall, slender woman. Though what on earth was she doing there? He’d had assumed that she was muggle, given the area that they were in, but suddenly the woman shouted his name, and Sirius would have recognised that voice anywhere.  
Professor McGonagall. 

His heart lurched at the sound of her, and naively he thought what an incredible coincidence it was that his McGonagall happened to be in the same park he’d fled to in the middle of the night. Then common sense tumbled over him like a pile of bricks, and his mother’s snarling words rang clear as day in his mind; 

“You’ll be expelled for this! Underage magic is a crime!”

Holy fuck they were quick - though he supposed the Ministry didn’t take lightly to angsty sixteen year olds assaulting their parents and fleeing the scene. Still he scrambled hastily to his feet as McGonagall quickened her pace towards him. 

“I can explain!” he shouted, moving away from her. He could see her face almost blanch when she looked at him, and he imagined it was because she was royally pissed off at having to deal with his shit outside of term. 

“Sirius, what are you doing?” she beckoned, “I’ve been trying to find you all night and -” 

“It was self defence! I swear to you Minnie it just got out of hand - “ 

“Sirius - “ 

“Please don’t expel me I’ll never put a foot out of line for as long as I live just - “ 

“Sirius!” 

“I thought they were going to kill me, Min” 

“Good grief boy just stop and listen to me!” McGonagall cried, and Sirius froze.

He’d known Minerva McGonagall for years, spent endless hours in her office writing lines, staring at her stern face. He’d seen her laugh hysterically when one of their pranks was just about good enough to earn her approval, and seen her flush with anger and exasperation on a daily basis when they inevitably took it too far. What he had never witnessed, however, was McGonagall look as utterly pained as she did in that moment. 

He remained rooted to the spot, which allowed the older woman to steadily approach him until he could see every line of her familiar face, which was furrowed in concern, and as her green eyes took in his battered appearance, he noticed them fill with tears. 

“You’re not being expelled, Sirius. Don’t be utterly ridiculous” She said firmly, as if it were the most ludicrous idea she’d ever heard. 

She continued talking, but Sirius could no longer hear her; he felt so weak with relief that he sank once more on his knees, and planted his hands on the cold earth to ground himself. 

He jolted to awareness when he felt something touch his shoulder, partly because of the lacerations that trailed down his back, but also his body’s way of anticipating further injury. Instead he found himself staring into the wide eyes of Professor McGonagall, who was crouched on the ground beside him. 

“What did they do to you, son?” she asked in a mournful tone, and reached out a hand - slowly, this time - to ever so gently touch just beneath the lump of swelling on his eye. Sirius swallowed hard. He’d been prepared for her to lecture him, or at the very least be exasperated at the situations he found himself in, he hadn’t at all been prepared for her to be so unnervingly kind. “We’ve got to get you to St Mungo’s” she clucked, and Sirius stiffened. 

“Don’t make me go there Professor - I’ll be fine, I swear” he begged, distinctly aware that he was quickly losing vision from the swelling in his left eye. McGonagall sighed, and appeared to mull something over for a minute. 

“Very well” she said in a business-like manner, “can you stand?” 

“Where are we going?” Sirius asked warily, forcing himself to his feet. 

“Home. Do you trust me enough to let me heal you?” she asked skeptically 

“You swear that’s where we’re going - to yours?” he asked, it almost seemed too good to be true, surely there had to be a catch somewhere. However, instead of being exasperated at his hesitance, McGonagall looked at him squarely and asked, 

“Have I ever let you down before, Sirius?” 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Though McGonagall had warned him beforehand, the apparition was the most viscerally uncomfortable sensation he’d ever felt; a turrent of wind wrenched open his already bleeding wounds, and every bruised muscle in his body seized in protest, before they finally came to a dizzying halt, where Sirius thought he was going to collapse face first into the ground. Instead, he felt McGonagall’s arm snake just under his shoulders and grip tightly, encouraging him to lean on her as they walked. While Minerva was notably tall for a woman, Sirius had a good few inches on her, and his body was twice as broad. Still, she didn’t even flinch under his weight, and the pair managed to make it up a narrow walkway, until with a flick of her wand McGonagall opened the front door and they stumbled in. 

Sirius collapsed unthinkingly onto one of the plush red sofas that rested closest to a blazing fire, and desperately tried to suppress the waves of nausea that washed over him. 

“Stay put, I’m just going to collect some medicinal potions” McGonagall informed him, shaking off her jacket and marching out of the room. 

Frankly, Sirius couldn’t go anywhere if he tried, as by the second the last drips of adrenaline were vanishing from his body and leaving in their place an unbearable shooting pain. 

He pushed himself upright and tentatively shed his leather jacket, then slid out of his hoodie. In another moment of dazed naivety he wondered why it had a different pattern on it than he remembered, before it dawned on him that it was his blood. Fuelled by morbid curiosity, he stepped towards the floor length mirror positioned at the far end of the room. 

Except it wasn’t a mirror, because the figure that stood before him wasn’t his own reflection - but a macabre depiction of a tormented, battered man. A man who had a swollen black eye and deep scars across his tanned limbs, a busted lip, and most disturbingly; barely an inch of scorched hair covering his blistered scalp. 

Fuck. In all the utter chaos of the evening he’d forgotten that his mother had burnt his hair off. His hair, which he spent hours in the day perfecting to maintain the ideal shaggy, carefree look that he went for - the fortune he spent on various products that Lily recommended to him had all become dust and smoke, and left Sirius feeling like an imposter in his own body. 

“Quite the loveable rogue, if you ask me” 

He jumped at the sound of McGonagall’s voice as she stood in the doorway with a tray full of various potions and salves. 

Sirius didn’t even have it in him to smirk, but bowed his head in shame. 

“It’s horrendous,” he said quietly. 

“What your parents did to you was, yes” Minerva said gravely. She placed the tray on the table beside the sofa and walked over to him and gently cupped his face with her soft, chilled hands. “It shouldn’t have happened Sirius, I’m sorry” 

He swallowed the lump in his throat that had risen unexpectedly, but could still feel her blazing sympathy tear through him. 

“It doesn’t matter, it was bound to happen sooner or later” he said. 

“It does matter” McGonagall chided instantly as she guided him to sit back down on the sofa. She began m methodically unscrewing the lids of the potion bottles and spilled a few drops onto a white flannel. 

“When did you learn this stuff?” Sirius asked, slightly bemused. 

“My mother was a healer” she informed him, not looking up, “not officially, of course. Though most women in those days had a solid understanding of medicine, they just couldn’t write it down. Hold still, this is going to hurt” she warned, peering up at him through her glasses. 

“I never knew - oh sweet mother of fuck” he hissed as searing stinging sensation bled through the deepest cut on his shoulder. 

“You’ve always had such a way with words” McGonagall murmured, undeterred. “Care to tell me what happened tonight?” she asked. 

Sirius noticed the slight change of her tone; a sudden undercurrent of solemn formality, layered with an icy anger. If he had any chance of defending himself completely against expulsion, Sirius realised he would have to reveal some embarrassing truths. 

“Errr” he began, scrambling to find the right phrase, “I reckon the house-elf was snooping in my room and found some questionable material, that I suppose go against my parents values” surely that was cryptic enough? 

Minerva stopped what she was doing and looked up at him, her eyes wide and analytic, and for a horrifying second Sirius completely believed that she was reading his mind. She gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. 

“I don’t know how many times I’ve told that Shunpike boy to stop distributing - “ 

“Wait, you know about - ?!” 

“Of course I know about those disgusting magazines Sirius. Do you think I was born yesterday?” she said shrilly. 

Sirius choked back a laugh, already imagining James’s face when he told him.  
“Still, it’s hardly a justification” she sniffed pointedly, her eyes closing in on Sirius’s torso, where a dark bruise was forming. “Are you having trouble breathing?” she demanded. 

“Kind of, but I usually do when you’re around, Professor” he admitted with mock bashfulness. 

“Oh be quiet” she snapped, entirely used to his charade of pretending to flirt that he’d started in his third year. She brought her wand to the source of the damage then took in a harsh breath. “You have a fractured rib” she informed him. 

“My mother’s got a solid kick” he said brightly, he’d intended the statement to come out in a light hearted manner, but a combination of his cracked voice and McGonagall’s wide eyed stare meant that it fell quite flat. 

“You could them to court for this, you know? There are new laws against this type of abuse” she informed him. 

“What, with Uncle Cygnus as the Chief of Justice? I don’t fancy my chances, Professor” he scoffed, “I’d be surprised if my parents aren’t on their way to him now, and he’s filing a warrant for my arrest” he admitted grimly. 

“You’re not going anywhere, do you hear me?” McGonagall said firmly, “irrespective of the prestige your family has, they don’t have a leg to stand on - not this time” 

Sirius only nodded, he breathed in the assurances desperately, holding to the hope that whatever McGonagall told him was true - because Minerva McGonagall had never lied to him before, so as long as she told him that everything would be alright, then he would do his best to believe her. 

“They were just so angry” he admitted, remembering the murderous rage on their faces. McGonagall hummed in acknowledgment. 

“And where was Regulus?” 

“Enjoying the evening’s entertainment from the staircase” Sirius said, he should have been used to the betrayal by now, but somehow it still stung. What if his parents had actually killed him, would Reg help bury his body? Probably. 

“Well, he at least gave you his wand, didn’t he?” McGonagall said

“What? No he - “ Sirius froze, and hastily retracted the wand that he’d miraculously found beneath the sofa - the only reason he’d lived through the ordeal. Sure enough, it was his brother’s wand. Did that mean…?  
“The Ministry detected underage magic in your area, and traced it back to a wand belonging to Regulus Black. Of course, when your trace showed that you’d left, it was safe to assume that it had been you to cast the spell” 

“Yeah, it was” Sirius muttered, the cogs in his mind turning. Regulus was positively meticulous with his wand, as he was with all of his possessions - he kept it locked in a frame all throughout summer. It didn’t make sense for him to leave abandoned underneath the sofa unless he’d planted it there deliberately, anticipating what was going to unfold. “Holy shit” he breathed, twitching as McGonagall applied more salve to his wounds. 

“You should talk to him when term starts again. Just because your parents are cutting you off doesn’t mean the pair of you can’t build a relationship” she said wisely. 

“All his friends are racist pillocks” Sirius pointed out, the incident between Severus and Lily was still fresh in everyone's memory, and he would be damned if he allowed something like that to happen again under his watch. Lily was his sister in everything but blood. 

“I never said you have to be friends, just talk to him , that’s all I ask” McGonagall said pointedly. 

“Fine” Sirius relented, rolling his eyes, “only because it’s you asking” 

“Good, now lie down - I’m going to heal that rib” 

Sirius obeyed her, he’d seen James go through a similar procedure at least twice a year from Quidditch injuries to know that it wasn’t a ghastly process, and his body automatically tensed. 

“Are you ready?” she asked, wand raised. 

“Nope” Sirius uttered through clenched teeth. 

“Reparo” 

With a revolting “crack” Sirius’s rib snapped into place and he was consumed with instant pain that left him screaming in agony. He felt a hand clasp around his arm and squeeze. 

“You’re alright, it’s done, it’s over” McGonagall ushered, “I’m going to get you something for the pain” 

Ten minutes later, the calming drought was thoroughly ensued in Sirius’s system, and the world around him blurred in a delirious haze of comforting warmth. He sunk deeper into the pillow that McGonagall had placed under his head, and sighed in relief as she rested her palm on his forehead. 

“Shhh, go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up” she assured, easing any anxiety that lingered in Sirius’s exhausted body. 

He’d spent so long seeing McGonagall as strictly authoritarian, someone burdened with the duty of ensuring students welfare, but the more he reflected on the consistent moments of care - like when she comforted Lily over her the situation with her sister, or gave Remus countless extensions on his homework, it became clear to Sirius that she was fuelled by a genuine sense of love. 

“ ‘s a shame you don’t have children” he commented, his words slurring.

Through the haze of his mind, he saw her raise an eyebrow. 

“Who says I don’t have any children, Sirius?"


End file.
